Whispers of a Rising Darkness
by Onaxe
Summary: Harry's fight against evil continues as he hunts the Inferi plaguing London. Malfoy comes to him for help, claiming to hear the voices of the dead. Their search for the truth leads them to purgatory, the world beyond the veil. H/D Slash.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **This piece of fiction is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made, no copyright or trademark infringement, or offence is intended.

**Warnings:** Slash, violence, gore, previous character death (Lucius, Narcissa).

**A/N**: This was written for the hp creatures fest on LJ. The prompter wanted the story based on the film Constantine, with Snape as Midnight. This story is in three parts and I shall update daily. :3

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><p><span>Whispers of a Rising Darkness<span>

The now familiar stench of rotting flesh told Harry he was on the right trail. Wand in hand, he followed the scent off the deserted muggle street into a dark narrow alleyway, careful to keep his back to the wall the way he'd been trained, lest he was ambushed.

He followed the alley to a dead end, hearing the tell-tale crunching and slurping noises early enough to brace himself for when the Inferius came into view. It was a young girl, with long, dark hair that draped over her back in a tangled mess. She was munching on the bloody remains of what appeared to be a cat.

His foot scuffed on the ground and the girl whirled around to face him. Harry winced. She appeared to be no older than six years old, her eyes pale and misted. Patches of her skin were discoloured and hung loose from her frame. A large chunk of flesh was missing from her cheek, revealing the rotting muscles underneath.

Blood dribbled down her chin as she bared her teeth in a silent snarl, her bony fingers flexing eagerly as Harry took a couple of cautious steps towards her. Reaching into his robes pocket, his fingers curled around the small, silver disc that would create a bubble-like ward when activated.

"I am so sorry," Harry apologised, even though he was fairly certain the Inferius couldn't understand him. They were animated corpses, lacking intelligence and any form of a soul. Yet whenever he exterminated them, Harry couldn't help but think of the people they may have once been, and he pitied them.

The Inferius let out a low growl and pounced just as Harry flung the disc at her feet. There was a loud bang as she crashed into the invisible wall, tumbling heavily to the ground in a tangled pile of limbs.

Waving his wand in a complicated motion, Harry began the incantation that would create a fire powerful enough to burn the corpse to a cinder, yet remain confined within the boundaries of the bubble ward.

Using the ward as support, the Inferius got to her feet, running her hands over the edge of the bubble that confined her as though searching for a weak point. She paused, her little hands curling into fists before she began to pound against the invisible wall, determined to break through.

Harry finished the incantation and watched the fire burst to life, running around the inner-edge of the bubble to form a circle. The Inferius hissed and skittered back, her arms raised protectively in front of her face. Harry frowned at the show of panic. Usually, Inferi didn't recognise the threat of the fire until it actually began to burn them, driven solely by the will of the dark wizard that created them.

The Inferius flailed, scuttling to and fro as the flames began to rise and close in around her. She turned to Harry, who froze at the expression of pure terror on her face.

"He...help! P-please!" she garbled, her gurgling voice barely audible over the roar of the fire.

"Impossible." Harry whispered to himself, staring at her in disbelief. Inferi were corpses animated by dark magic, with no will or emotions of their own. They were moving bags of putrid flesh and broken bones, nothing more. Talking like this girl, showing emotion like this girl, just wasn't possible.

"P-please!" She shrieked this time, reaching out for him desperately as the flames began to lick her skin and scorch her flesh. "He-help! Mu-mummy!"

Cursing under his breath, Harry cast a counter-charm that would put the fire out, something he'd never attempted to do before. The flames crackled as they climbed higher, smothering the Inferius' shrill screams as they completely consumed her body. Frantic now, Harry slashed his wand down, cutting through the very heart of the fire. It flickered, almost hesitantly, before the flames dispersed and died, revealing the charred remains of the Inferius girl.

Harry stared at them with a sense of loss for a moment before shaking his head and Vanishing them with a sharp flick of his wand. In the whole three years that he'd been hunting the Inferi, he'd never encountered one that had shown emotion and pain like the girl had.

Picking up the small, silver disc, Harry deactivated the bubble ward. His senses were immediately invaded by the overpowering stench of burnt flesh and ash. Stomach roiling, Harry stumbled, gagging and retching as he lost his breakfast.

Taking a deep rattling breath to steady himself, he eyed the scorched cement with a dark scowl, shakily wiping his mouth clean with the back of his hand. Making sure to clear the alley of any traces of his or the Inferius' presence, Harry apparated directly to the Ministry, determined to get some answers.

* * *

><p>They were whispering again.<p>

Draco shivered, curling further beneath his blankets as he covered his hands over his ears. Though it did nothing to block out the voices, the action was comforting. The whispers grew louder, more fervent, the longer he ignored them. A shadow flickered in his peripheral vision and Draco quickly squeezed his eyes shut.

_"Ours."_

"_Take us."_

"_Ours."_

"I can't hear you. I can't hear you," he chanted under his breath.

He could feel the icy breeze caress his skin as they attempted to touch him, tug at him, demand his attention. Draco ignored them, burrowing deeper under his blankets as he began to sing softly to himself; an old wizarding lullaby his mother had favoured when he was a boy.

It took him a moment to realise another voice was echoing his own, lyrical and soft the way his mother's had been. An icy touch brushed his forehead, reminiscent to the way his mother used to smooth back his hair.

"_Seek __him, __Draco. __Seek __Harry __Potter._"

Draco's eyes flew open and he bolted upright. The whispers had abruptly ceased and the shadows had vanished, leaving only the chilling memory of his former rival's name echoed in the gentle sound of his dead mothers' voice.

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><p>The Ministry was quiet when Harry arrived, most employees having already finished their shifts by then and most likely already at home, enjoying their evening meals with their families. Harry shrugged off the wave of envy at the thought, pressing the button to call for the lift. He'd had his chance to start his own family with Ginny, but gave it up when he became an Unspeakable.<p>

Being an Unspeakable obviously meant that he wasn't allowed to discuss his work with anyone outside his department colleagues. Harry found it hard enough keeping secrets from his best friends, he didn't even want to attempt to try it with a spouse. Besides, the job had meant Harry would work inconsistent hours and rarely spend time at home, which just wouldn't have been fair on Ginny.

The lift doors clattered open and Harry stepped in, pushing the button for level 9. The lift rattled and creaked ominously the way it always did when descending to the Department of Mysteries. Harry suspected it had been designed that way to unnerve any unauthorised persons who wanted to poke their noses into the mysterious department. He simply found the noises bloody annoying. The lift jerked to a halt and the doors slowly slid open, revealing the same dark corridor Harry had led his friends down all those years ago as a naïve teenager determined to save his Godfather.

Grimacing at the unpleasant memory, Harry strode down the narrow hall, heading for the lone door at the end. An ugly looking gargoyle that had the impression of a deformed bird sat before it, blocking his way. The department had stepped up its security since the aforementioned incident when all the prophecies and time-turners had been smashed.

"Password?" it croaked in an old man's voice as he approached.

"Do we have to do this every day, Jex?" Harry asked the gargoyle, annoyed. "Surely you know that I work as an Unspeakable by now? I come past you all the time."

"Jex knows no such thing, Harry Potter," Jex replied, it's beak twisted into a smirk. "All Jex knows is that Harry Potter shall not pass until Harry Potter tells Jex the password."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Harry Potter sucks dick," he sighed.

Jex let out a howl of laughter that reverberated off the walls down the corridor, as though that hadn't been the same password since Jex had been instated as the department's gargoyle three years ago. For some reason Jex always found it hilarious to insult Harry, though he treated the other Unspeakables with a mild tolerance.

"Because Jex likes Harry Potter, that's why," Jex had told him once when Harry had got fed up enough to ask. "Harry Potter is fun, unlike the other stinky humans that pass Jex by."

Jex stepped to one side and let Harry pass into the circular room lined with doors, the gargoyle's chuckles still audible even as the door swung shut behind him. As the lock clicked in place, the walls rotated, leaving Harry unsure of which door it was that he just came through.

Pulling his wand from his robes, Harry drew a complicated fiery rune symbol in the air; the same way Tom Riddle had written his own name in the air back in the Chamber of Secrets in his second year at Hogwarts.

"_Abducco __nex,__" _Harry said, softly. With a flick of his wand, the rune flew across the room, hitting the door to his far right before crackling out of existence, leaving a black scorch mark in its wake. Harry tucked his wand away, heading for the marked door that led to the department's death chamber.

Inside, the black veil still hung from the stone archway, the voices of the dead whispering quietly from just beyond it. They grew louder as Harry approached the dais, urging him closer, tempting him to step through the tattered curtain and join them. They faltered, as though amazed, when Harry showed absolutely no sign of hesitation and simply strode through the veil like it was any other ordinary doorway.

The ground crunched under Harry's feet as he took his first steps into purgatory, the place between life and whatever waited after death, the realm where demons and other sinister ghouls loved to play. The wind whipped his hair every which-way, the icy bite to it nipping unpleasantly at his exposed skin.

Taking a deep breath and almost choking on the cloying smell of ash, Harry clambered over the rubble tinted red by the low hanging sun, heading for the broken city silhouetted against the horizon.

Every now and then a shadow would flicker in his peripheral vision, vanishing by the time he turned his head. There came the chink of stone being disturbed following by a muffled chittering, but Harry ignored the noise. It was only the sound of minor demons, nothing he had to be concerned with unless they decided to brave their curiosity with him.

He walked past the remnants of what appeared to have once been a large fountain, turning to face his destination; the skeleton remains of a fallen tower. Harry took a step towards it, but whirled around at the loud sound of a rock slide. A series of chittering noises followed, louder than before and seemingly coming from all directions.

Gripping his wand tightly, Harry spun in a slow circle, seeing the flickers of black shadows wherever he looked. Merlin, there had to be at least a hundred of them, and they'd surrounded him. He breathed deeply to calm the rapid pounding of his heart. He hadn't expected this at all, since minor demons were usually too cowardly to approach someone unless... Harry narrowed his eyes, the pieces of the puzzle slowly sliding into place as he thought it through.

Minor demons were cowardly unless in the presence of a major demon. One that knew why Harry had entered purgatory and wanted to stop him from getting the answers he sought. He grinned wryly, a specific demon who may want to interfere with his plans immediately coming to mind.

A rock sliding from a nearby pile drew his attention. A minor demon had gathered up its courage and was crawling slowly towards him on all fours, hissing and chittering as it moved. It had leathery black skin gleaming brown in the red sun, a bulbous head with no eyes and a large mouth with rows of razor sharp teeth. Small bat like wings were folded flat against its arched back, where the bones of its spine bobbed clearly under the skin.

As though urged on by the actions of their kin, other minor demons began to emerge from the rubble, slowly closing in. Harry waited until the first one was about three feet away before he jerked into motion.

"_Ferio!__" _he cast, a white shock of light bursting from his wand tip to blast against the minor demon. It let out a shrieking wail as it hurtled through the air, landing heavily on a distant pile of rubble.

Instead of being scared off by this attack, the approaching minor demons hissed and snarled at Harry, the nearest actually lunging for him. He whirled to one side, stunning it as it flew past. He yelped, falling face-first to the ground as one took him unawares and crashed into his back, its hook-like talons digging painfully into his back as it's sharp teeth snapped through his hair, grazing his scalp.

Harry flipped over, flinging the demon off his back as he kicked away another that tried to leap on him, fumbling for the bubble-ward disc. Another demon grabbed his leg and sunk its teeth deep into his shin. Harry cried out in pain, hissing out another curse that blasted the horrible creature away. With a shout he activated the bubble-ward, several of the demons crashing into the invisible walls as they tried to reach him.

Panting, Harry got to his feet, his leg throbbing in time with his back. He touched his fingers to the back of his skull, grimacing when he drew them away to see the tips coloured crimson. No doubt his back was bleeding as well. He ran a tongue over his lip, surprised to find it had split open. That must have happened when he'd fallen over.

The demons circled around the edge of his bubble-ward like a pack of hungry hyenas, hissing and growling what could only be ugly, dark promises. Harry snarled at them in a reasonable impression of a demon, before picking up the disc and pocketing it. The bubble-ward would hold until Harry deactivated it as long as the disc remained intact.

Turning, Harry limped towards the broken tower. The minor demons followed, snarling in frustration when they realised they couldn't break through the bubble and stop him. Harry smiled in a grim note of satisfaction, slipping through the narrow archway, hidden to one side in the shadows of the tower. The minor demons stopped just before the entrance, unable to follow any further.

Flipping them a sarcastic salute, Harry descended the steep hill before him, carefully sliding down the rocky rubble with a practised edge until he reached a more practical set of stone steps, taking his care in hobbling down.

The difference in temperature was immediately noticeable when Harry finally reached the bottom, rubbing his hands as the sudden warmth made the icy chill the wind had given his skin all the more unbearable.

"Back again, Potter?" came a familiar drawling voice. "If I realised how often I would end up having you as a visitor, I would have reconsidered accepting this job."

Severus Snape sat a few feet away in a dark green velvet chair, a small round table draped in a simple white cloth beside him, a large stack of parchment resting on top. A dark bubbling river ran just behind his chair, disappearing with a gurgle as it entered a large, gaping, dark cavern set off to one far side of the room.

"Hello, Severus," Harry greeted, approaching the former potions master with a cool smile. "How have you been?"

"Adequate, though a far sight better than you it appears," Snape replied, taking in Harry's bloody and dusty appearance. He sat back in his chair, crossing his legs. "Care to explain?"

Taking the unspoken invitation, Harry conjured a chair of his own, identical to Snape's only in Gryffindor red, simply to annoy him. "I had a run in with a horde of minor demons on my way here," Harry explained, wincing as he sat down.

The slow blink Snape gave was the only sign he gave of his surprise. "That's highly unusual," he drawled.

Harry nodded in agreement. "Unless of course, a major demon was riling them up, encouraging them to attack me."

Snape scowled at him. "That is impossible."

"Not everyone sticks to the rules, Severus," Harry replied. "I also believe that the self-same major demon is dabbling in necromancy."

"Now you're being ridiculous, Potter," Snape snapped. "Just because you're unable to find the dark wizards at the source of the Inferi attacks doesn't mean you should resort to making up absurd theories to compensate for your own incompetence."

"It's not ridiculous!" Harry snapped back, quickly losing his temper. "We've been unable to track down the dark wizards that are conjuring the Inferi, which is unbelievable considering how many of them it would take to conjure the amount of Inferi that have been appearing."

"So that immediately brings you to believe that a demon is practising necromancy?" Snape asked, his tone patronising.

"It's more than that!" Harry sat forward, determined to get Snape to listen. "The last Inferius I exterminated showed emotion. She talked like she would have if she had been human."

"Inferi don't have feelings, Potter," Snape explained slowly, as though he thought Harry were a bit slow, which he probably did. "They are corpses animated using the dark arts, nothing more. Even you should have learnt as much over the past three years."

"I'm telling you, this one was scared. She was terrified of the fire I conjured." Harry felt a squirm of guilt at her remembered screams, but shoved it away to mull over later. "Something big is going on, Severus, and the demons are behind it."

"Well, that's a rather strong accusation you're making, Mr. Potter."

Harry jerked to his feet, startled by the unexpected voice. He frowned, taking in the familiar long blond hair and trademark sneer. The pointed ears and leathery wings had been carefully concealed, though Harry knew they were present having seen them once before when the man had first become a major demon after his death.

"Lucius," Harry muttered in reluctant greeting.

Lucius inclined his head to Harry with an amused smirk. "My, my, Potter. You certainly look worse for wear. Life in the realm of the living not treating you well?"

"Actually, I had an unfortunate incident with those minor demons of yours," Harry replied, his tone deceptively light.

"Really?" Lucius said, sounding pleased. "How absolutely delightful!"

Harry drew his wand in a smooth motion as his patience snapped. Lucius rose an amused brow when it was pointed in his direction.

"Enough!" Snape bellowed, slamming his hand against the table top hard enough to jolt the wood. "I won't have you fighting here. This zone is neutral. Potter, put away your wand. Now." Snape ordered.

"The bastard deserves to be hexed into oblivion and you know it, Severus," Harry growled out, keeping his wand levelled at Lucius whom appeared completely unconcerned.

"That doesn't matter here, Potter. You will obey the rules of my house," Snape demanded. "Put away your wand."

Harry hesitated before reluctantly lowering his wand, though he kept it in ready in his hand if Lucius decided to try something. It was enough to appease Snape though, who sat back in his chair with a self-satisfied nod.

"If you'll excuse us, Mr. Potter, Severus and I have a pre-arranged meeting to attend to," Lucius said, settling himself in Harry's previously vacated chair. Harry was half-tempted to Vanish it simply to watch the demon sprawl onto the floor in an undignified heap, but resisted the urge when Snape gave him a quelling look of warning.

Frowning, Harry reluctantly started walking towards the river bank, but paused beside Snape to give a final warning.

"The demons are up to something; I just know that they're the ones behind the Inferi attacks," Harry hissed quietly, though he was sure Lucius could hear him anyway. "You're probably the only one left playing by the rules."

That said, Harry withdrew two golden galleons from his pocket and dropped them on the table before Snape. There was a moments pause before the river water gurgled and parted, revealing a large hole shining with a bright white light.

Harry nodded in parting to Snape, scowled in warning at Lucius before he dived in, falling through the white void and returning to the realm of the living.

* * *

><p>Draco shifted nervously in the narrow corridor, the fact that he was standing in the middle of a Muggle building in the middle of Muggle London making him all the more uncomfortable. The voices still whispered to him here, but they were so quiet Draco could barely hear them. Every now and then a shadow would flicker in his peripheral vision, but vanished when he turned to look, something that really wasn't helping his already frazzled nerves.<p>

"Malfoy?"

Draco jerked, though covered it up with the elegance in which he spun around. Potter was seemingly unimpressed by the smooth motion, eyeing Draco suspiciously as he hovered outside the front door to the Saviour's flat.

It had taken a lot of blackmail and a hell of a lot of charm and galleons just to be able to find out which area of London Potter lived in. Luck had been on Draco's side however, managing to find a thin trail of magic that led him to this flat where the amazingly strong wards surrounding the building were covered with Potter's magical signature.

"Potter," Draco greeted with a sharp nod, noting the filthy and rather bloody appearance of the former Gryffindor.

"What are you doing here?" Potter asked, clearly annoyed.

Draco noted the Unspeakable emblem that decorated the lapel of Potter's Ministry standard robes and the way his right hand hovered over his outer pocket where he no doubt kept his wand. Unspeakables where well known for being paranoid and quick to hex. Mix that in with Potter's short temper and Draco decided it best to get straight to the point, or risk being on the wrong end of a nasty curse.

"I need your help," he said, though he made sure his displeasure at the fact was made clear in the way his tone practically dripped with disdain.

Potter's wary gaze became curious and he took a step closer, though his hand still hovered over his pocket, no doubt ready to draw his wand if Draco so much as breathed the wrong way. "Help with what, exactly?"

"I- I don't really know," Draco admitted hesitantly, wincing at the pathetic sound of his own voice. He drew himself up and said in a proud tone more befitting a Malfoy; "But I require your assistance, Potter, in whatever it is."

"R-i-i-i-ght." Potter said slowly, drawing his wand to lower the wards around his flat. "Listen Malfoy, I don't know how you managed to find out where I live or what game it is you're playing, but I've had a really bad day. How about you figure out a more plausible reason to torment me and come back again some time next week when I have the patience to deal with you."

"No, wait!" Draco lunged and grabbed Potter's arm before he could slip into the apartment and raise the wards once more.

The stench of ash invaded Draco's senses, making him gag and choke. Black coated his vision leaving him momentarily blind before it cleared. An icy wind whipped through his hair and bit at his bare skin, raising goosebumps. Potter wore an expression of pure astonishment as Draco turned slowly, his hand still clutching the other wizard's arm, eyes wide as he took in the rubble of a broken city and thick clouds floating above tainted red by the low burning sun.

A dark shadow flickered to his right, and Draco spun to face it fully expecting it to disappear as they always did before. Instead it's form became more tangible, melding into a leathery skinned hideous creature with a mouth full of dripping fangs. The creature snarled in warning before it lunged at him.

Draco stumbled back as Potter moved in front of him as a physical barrier, his wand drawn. Losing his balance on the rubble, Draco tripped and fell to heavily to the ground, releasing Potter's arm as he went. The horrible creature and the broken city vanished in a whirl of colours with the loss of contact, leaving them standing in the narrow corridor outside Potter's flat once more.

"What in Salazar's name was that?" Draco whispered after a moment of stunned silence, still sitting on the floor.

"That was a minor demon," Potter explained, eyeing Draco in wonder. "Just now, how did you-? What just happened?"

"That's what I would like to know!" Draco snapped back. A shadow flickered from just behind Potter and he recoiled, more afraid now since he now knew what lurked beyond the darkness. "Forget it, I've had enough!"

Ignoring Potter's calls for him to wait, Draco fled down the stairs, out of the building and down the street. After running for a few minutes, he found himself longing for his wand so he could apparate home. Draco paused, leaning against the corner of a building as he caught his breath. The Ministry had confiscated it, banning him from using magic for an entire year as his punishment for his part in the war.

Compared to his parents though, Draco had gotten off lightly. His father had been sentenced to life in Azkaban, where his health had deteriorated rapidly before he passed away about three years ago. His mother had been sentenced to house arrest and wasn't even allowed a days reprieve to attend the funeral. Heartbroken from the loss of her husband, Narcissa had passed on recently, having given up the will to live.

"Are you all right, dear?" asked a soft, concerned voice, drawing Draco out from his dark memories.

The speaker was a woman, about a head shorter than Draco. She was garbed in Muggle clothing, the hood of her jacket hiding the majority of her face from sight, though her long curling brown hair spilled out from under it to drape over her chest.

"I'm fine," Draco replied, coldly dismissive. This was the last thing he needed; some annoying Muggle woman poking her nose under the guise of being kindly concerned.

"Really?" the Muggle asked, sounding dubious. "You seem rather pale. Here, let me check your temperature. I'm a doctor."

Even better, a nosy Muggle Healer. Draco rolled his eyes and held still, figuring it would be the quickest way to be rid of her once she ascertained he was in perfect physical health. As the Muggle reached for him, Draco caught a whiff of her scent and instinctively recoiled. She stunk of rotting flesh.

The Muggle paused as though surprised before she let loose a gentle chuckle. "Oh, dear. And the Master assured me that the charms would be strong enough to mask my smell, even from you," she said cryptically, pulling back her hood to reveal the monstrosity beneath.

The entire top half of her skull was completely bare, the white bone cracked and crumbling in places. Patches of yellowing skin covered her lower jaw and neck, peeling at the edges. She only had one clouded glassy eye, a dark gaping hole where the other should have been, something squirming just out of sight towards the back of her skull.

Disgusted and frightened, Draco stumbled back a few steps before quickly spinning on his heel and fleeing. The heavy sound of feet slapping against the pavement behind him announced the Inferius taking pursuit. Draco allowed himself another brief moment to yearn for his absent wand before shoving the thought to one side, pushing his body to move as fast as it was able.

He could hear the Inferius quickly catching up to him. Draco chanced a glance over his shoulder to see her close behind. Unfortunately, that was when his trainer (unreliable Muggle shoe that it was) scuffed against an uneven bit of pavement. Draco stumbled but kept on his feet, though the few seconds loss of pace was all the Inferius needed to catch him.

She darted out a hand, catching him by the shoulder. Draco yelped as she pulled him back, yanking him right off his feet in an amazing show of strength. Her other hand wrapped around his neck as she threw him to the floor, choking him even before he hit the ground.

"Be a good boy and go to sleep for a bit so I can deliver you to my Master," the Inferius said, her voice sickly sweet as she slammed Draco's head into the cement pavement hard enough for him to see stars.

Her grip around his neck tightened and Draco gasped, scrabbling at her hands to try and pry the bony fingers loose. The lack of oxygen burned his lungs, making him dizzy and his vision was beginning to darken around the edges. He bucked, trying to throw the Inferius off but she quickly killed that plan by slamming his head against the pavement again.

"_Ferio!_"

The Inferius flew off Draco with a loud shriek, hit with a blast of white magic. He sat up, a hand against his sore throat as he coughed and spluttered, gulping down the air gratefully as it returned to his lungs.

Potter stepped protectively in front of him, wand out ready and aimed at the Inferius as she unsteadily got back to her feet.

"I'm surprised you're still alive, Malfoy," Potter said casually, as though he were talking about the weather. "Inferi tend to kill right away. Normally, it would have snapped your neck like a twig that moment it got hold of you."

Hearing this, the Inferius laughed. "I won't kill the boy, my Master needs him alive," she told them, waving her bony hand oddly in the air.

Potter flicked a narrowed glance at Draco, before focusing on the Inferius. "Why? What does Lu- your master- want with Malfoy?"

The Inferius gave a skeletal grin. "He will make the pathway."

"Pathway? To where?" Potter asked, confused as Draco stood up beside him.

"Here, there, everywhere!" the Inferius said, flinging its arms out wide and spinning in a tight circle. "Wherever there is life, death shall rise in glory!"

Tipping her head back, the Inferius let out an inhuman wail, high-pitched and screeching. Draco clapped his hands over his ears to block out the painful noise. His stomach dropped with dread at the answering sound of similar cries coming from all around them. He and Potter turned as one, watching in horror as more Inferi lumbered out from round the corners, slipping out from the nearby alleyways and buildings, even popping up from underneath a drainage grate, until they were surrounded.

Potter shut his eyes with a frustrated sigh, sounding tired of all things. "This is the second time today I've been surrounded," he muttered to himself.

"Don't just stand there, Potter, do something!" Draco demanded as the Inferi crept closer, identical twisted grins on their deformed, rotting faces.

"Yes, your highness," Potter snapped back with a glare.

He let loose a yelp of surprise when Potter slipped an unexpected arm around his waist, pulling Draco close until they were practically chest to chest.

"What in Merlin's name-" Draco started, pulling back a bit from Potter's firm hold.

Potter flashed him a quick sly grin. "Hold on," he warned.

Pointing his wand at their feet, Potter muttered a spell Draco couldn't quite catch under his breath. A blast of yellow magic shot out from the wand tip into the ground, quickly billowing out in a rippling wave, knocking the Inferius over as it passed.

"Different, but it wasn't very effective, Potter," Draco said as the Inferius started getting back to their feet, seemingly unharmed and unhindered by Potter's spell.

"That was just the first wave," Potter informed him, his arm around Draco's waist tightening slightly. "Get ready... now!"

Draco barely had time to clutch onto Potter's robes as a second larger wave exploded from beneath them. This time the magic burst into the air, setting it aflame. The Inferi wailed and shrieked as the flames flew over them, scorching their rotting flesh. Draco instinctively pressed closer to Potter as the fire drew nearer, threatening to burn him.

"Do something Potter, before we die!" he yelled over the loud roar of the flames.

Potter hissed a curse under his breath, the edge of his robes singed by the fire as it drifted closer. Wrapping his arms around Draco's neck, Potter pulled him flush against his chest. Draco's hands instinctively fell to rest on Potter's hips, gripping tightly at the all to familiar unpleasant sensation of side-along apparition. The feeling of being stuffed through a tight rubber tube ended abruptly to the sound of a loud crack.

Curious, Draco pulled back from Potter to see where they'd landed. His vision was immediately assaulted by various tones of red and gold that decorated the numerous items of cheap wooden furniture and coloured the walls. Either this was Potter's flat, Draco decided, or he'd somehow managed to completely bypass the anti-apparition wards that surrounded Hogwarts and apparated them straight into the Gryffindor common room. Though Draco wouldn't put it past the bespectacled git's ability to do so, the lack of young Hogwarts students led him to believe it was Potter's flat.

"You can let go of me any time now, Malfoy," Potter said after a minute, sounding amused.

Draco flushed, realising his hands were still tightly gripping Potter's waist and quickly released him, backing up a few paces to put some space between them.

"I've hunted the Inferi for three years, ever since they first started randomly appearing on the streets," Potter told him, his voice soft. "This is the first time I've ever come across one actively trying to capture someone, rather than just kill them on sight."

Draco shuddered, absently rubbing his throat where he could still fell the cold imprint of the Inferius' bony fingers.

"Why were they after you?" Potter asked, his tone suddenly sharp.

"I don't know!" Draco snapped back, hating that Potter was treating him like a guilty criminal rather than the innocent victim that he was. "Why don't you go ask their 'master' or whatever. He's the one that seems to want me captured."

Potter eyed him for a moment before he spoke again, in a softer tone. "Earlier, when you grabbed me, we somehow ended up in purgatory; the world that lies just beyond the veil. Do you think the reason they want to capture you has anything to do with that?"

Draco shrugged and looked away. "I don't know," he muttered, sullenly.

Giving an annoyed huff, Potter plonked himself down on the red-trimmed sofa. "For someone that came to me for help, you're not being very co-operative."

"I can't help what I don't know!" Draco snapped, before adding in a mumble. "Besides, it wasn't my choice to ask you for help."

"Really?" Potter peered at him curiously. "Whose was it?"

Draco bit the inside of his lip and said nothing. Telling Potter he'd heard his dead mother's voice would earn him a direct trip to the St. Mungo's Janus Thickey ward.

Potter flung his hands in the air in a show of annoyance, getting to his feet and stalking over to a wooden cabinet pushed against the far wall. Various shaped bottles full of alcohol were lined up over the top, along with a couple of crystal brandy glasses.

Draco watched Potter's back as he poured himself a firewhisky, anxiously nibbling his bottom lip. Potter would no doubt get fed up with him soon in his reluctance to give up information, probably enough to refuse any further help and toss Draco out onto the streets, leaving him to the mercy of the Inferi.

"It was my mother," Draco admitted quietly, knowing Potter had heard him from the way he stilled. He hoped he wasn't making a mistake in trusting Potter with this. "I heard her voice saying: 'Seek him, Draco. Seek Harry Potter.'"

"Your mother," Potter repeated, pouring out a second glass. "She died recently, didn't she?"

Draco waited until Potter turned to face him, meeting his gaze head-on so he could clearly read Draco's sincerity. "Yes. She died about three months ago. But it was her voice I heard, I don't doubt that."

Instead of bursting out in laughter or making snide remarks over Draco's questionable sanity, Potter simply grunted. He silently handed Draco a glass of firewhisky before sitting back on the sofa, sipping his own drink with a distant gaze, as though lost in thought.

"You don't think I'm mad?" Draco questioned, nervously tapping the side of his glass with his fingernails. "I just admitted to hearing my dead mother talking to me. Isn't that a bit odd to you?"

Potter's gaze flicked to him and away. "I've heard of stranger things. These past few years, I've learnt to stop dismissing anything that seems odd or weird, simply because I don't understand them or thought they were impossible."

"Besides," he added, leaning forward so his arms rested on his legs, holding his glass just before his mouth. "There's definitely something different about you, Malfoy. How did you manage to transport us to purgatory, even for that short amount of time? As far as I was aware, the only way was through the veil. Even then, only people who have died manage to pass through unharmed."

Hesitantly, Draco took the seat next to Potter. He sipped at his drink, the warm rush of alcohol burning his throat helping to steady his nerves.

"When I was a lot younger, long before I started Hogwarts, I used to see strange things. Things no one else could see," he explained, eyes on the floor. Potter sat beside him in silence, listening. "Shadows flickering in the corner of my eye, strange creatures crossing my path, people that were there when I first looked but when I turned back had vanished. I even heard voices sometimes, telling me I was theirs, begging me to help them, to take them, whatever that meant."

"Voices of the dead," Potter mumbled.

Draco nodded. "Though I didn't realise that at the time, yes. My parents didn't understand what I could see. They were horrified by the thought their son might be mad, or just different. The one time I tried to explain to my mother what I saw, she actually threatened to hit me." He gave a grim smile. "That's the only time in my life mother ever raised her hand to me. It scared me enough that I stopped telling people what I saw. I tried to carry on as a normal wizard boy, ignoring all the strange things I could hear and see. They faded over time as I grew older and then completely disappeared by the time I got to Hogwarts."

"When did you start seeing them again?"

"A few months ago," Draco replied after a moments thought. "Not long after my mother died, I think. I suppose the shock of losing both my parents might have had something to do with it."

Potter hummed a non-committal note, his glass chinking against the wood of the squat coffee table as he set it down. "How did she die? I remember reading about it in the Prophet, but they were strangely vague on the details."

"I don't really know, myself," Draco told him with a shrug, gulping down the last of his drink and setting his glass down beside Potter's. "She never was the same after father died, spending all her time holed up in the Manor library. Her health slowly deteriorated. She was eating less, losing weight and there was nothing I could do to help her. She just gave up in the end, as though life just wasn't worth living any more."

Potter's lips thinned as his jaw tightened, a dark look crossing over his face. Seeing it, Draco asked. "What is it?"

There was a heavy silence as Potter picked up the used glasses and set them back on the counter top. Draco grimaced, hoping Potter washed them regularly after use and he didn't just drink out of a filthy glass.

"Everything just seems too coincidental to not be connected somehow," Potter said eventually, his tone soft.

"Connected?"

Potter turned around, ticking off his fingers as he spoke. "Three years ago, shortly after Lucius died, the Inferi suddenly began appearing everywhere and no-one can locate the dark wizards responsible."

"Please don't tell me you're accusing my father of creating the Inferi from beyond the grave, Potter."

The git just smirked at him before continuing, as though Draco hadn't spoken. "Your mother then starts to get sick, uncharacteristically keeping to herself until she eventually died. Not long after that, your odd abilities return, allowing you to see strange things and hear the voices of the dead. The Inferi then try to capture you rather than just kill you on behalf of their Master, supposedly to 'make the pathway', whatever that is supposed to mean."

Draco frowned. When listed like that, it did all seem rather strange, though he didn't understand Potter's idea on how his father fit in with the Inferi appearances.

"You said Narcissa holed herself up in the Manor library before she died?" Potter asked, though it sounded more like a statement. "Do you have any idea what she was doing in there?"

"It's a library, Potter," Draco drawled. "What does one generally do in the library?"

"Have hot, steamy sex up against the bookshelves?" Potter suggested. Seeing Draco's bewildered expression, he laughed. "I'm joking, Malfoy."

Draco sniffed disdainfully. "I wish you wouldn't mention sex with my mother involved, Potter, even in jest," he said, his nose wrinkling at the very thought.

"I wasn't even thinking of Narcissa at that point," Potter said, his voice soft, silken and laced with a hidden promise.

Draco stared at him as Potter turned away, abruptly breaking the strange tension building between them when he spoke again. "Anyway, I meant, do you know what she was reading in there?"

"I'm not certain. Mother never allowed anyone else within the library, not even the house-elves," Draco replied with a shrug, getting to his feet. "I don't even think they've been in there since she died."

There was a hesitation. "I have a theory, about why Narcissa died the way she did. But I can't say for certain, not until I've investigated a bit more," Potter told him. "To do that, I need access to the Manor library. Will you let me through the wards?"

The Manor's wards had been strengthened shortly after the end of the war, just when the Death Eater trials had begun. No one but those with Malfoy blood were allowed access through them. The one time they'd made an exception for Ministry officials, Lucius had been arrested and taken to Azkaban, and the majority of the Manor's most valuable assets had been seized under the pretence of making reparations for damages caused during the war.

Since Potter worked for the Ministry, he was probably aware of all that. This was a test, to see if Draco was willing to trust Potter and accept his help. Though he was reluctant, Draco believed his mother had good reason to send him to Potter for help, and it wasn't as though he had anyone else to turn to at this point.

"All right," Draco agreed, after a moment. "But take a shower or something first. I'm not side-along apparating with someone who stinks of sweat and blood."

Potter blinked then looked down at his bloody and tattered robes as though only just realising his appearance, giving a sheepish grin in return. "Oh, right. Deal."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/n**: Even though people aren't commenting, I know you guys are reading this story from the amount of faves I'm getting! XD Glad you guys are enjoying it! :3

Part 2

The Manor seemed different to what Harry remembered, though he'd only ever been there once before. It may have just been the memory of Hermione's screams as she was being tortured by Bellatrix that may have altered his perception of the place at the time, but it seemed a lot more welcoming, with a brighter atmosphere than last time. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact he was a guest this time rather than a prisoner.

"Did you redecorate?" Harry asked as they entered the large front hall, greeted by a couple of house-elves who took their cloaks.

Malfoy gave him an odd look. "Not exactly. What makes you think that?"

"I don't know. It just... feels different, I suppose," Harry said, giving voice to his thoughts. "Like its warmer or something. I can't really explain it."

"Why doesn't it surprise me that you of all people can sense that," Malfoy said rolling his eyes, leading the way up the curving staircase to the second floor. "Mother had the Manor purged shortly after the war."

"Purged?" Harry asked intrigued, trailing close behind him.

Malfoy nodded. "The Manor has never been pure. Over the years, its been tainted by the use of the Dark Arts by several Malfoy generations. When the Dark Lord settled here, the dark magic spread, making this place almost unbearable to live in. It cost a fair amount of galleons to purify the magic, but mother was adamant that it had to be done," he shrugged, leading them down a wide corridor. "The warmer atmosphere you're sensing is the result of the purified magic."

Malfoy came to a halt before a couple of wide-set double doors; large ornately carved M's spread over the front panels. He lifted a hand, hesitating as it hovered over the door handle. Harry looked at him curiously, wondering why he was faltering over opening the door. Malfoy's eyes were wide in fear, darting every which way, seeing things around them that Harry couldn't.

After only a moments debate, Harry laid a hand on his arm. Malfoy started, staring at him as the world around them faded to be replaced by the broken scenery of purgatory. Shadows flickered all around them, lacking the usual chittering and snarling that signalled the presence of minor demons. Harry's eyes narrowed, noting they almost looked like smoky, blurred silhouettes of human figures.

"_Take __us.__"_

"_Ours."_

"_Take us."_

Their voices were static and unclear, like coming through a radio on a bad connection, but Harry was still able to make out what they said. The shadows slid towards them and Malfoy inched closer to Harry, until his back was pressed against Harry's chest. He could feel Malfoy shivering, whether it be from the cold wind or fear of the shadows, and he curled an arm around his chest, holding him close in what he hoped was a comforting gesture.

"It's all right. I've got you." He whispered impulsively in Malfoy's ear, aiming his wand at a shadow when it drew a little too close. It faltered, as though recognising the threat, before sliding away in retreat. "They can't harm you, Malfoy. I won't let them."

Malfoy took a deep shuddering breath, leaning heavily against Harry as he slowly calmed himself. Harry rubbed his arm in comfort and encouragement, keeping a sharp eye on the shadows. They seemed content enough to simply watch from a distance, whispering their strange mantra over and over again.

"_Ours.__"_

"_Take us."_

"_Ours."_

Malfoy shivered again, closing his eyes. The scenery spun and faded like before, leaving them back in the Manor corridor, standing before the library doors. Tilting his head back so it rested on Harry's shoulder, Malfoy gave him a weak smile.

Harry found himself smiling back. From his close proximity, he could make out the blue and amber flecks that made up the general light grey hue of Malfoy's eyes. Malfoy's tongue poked out as he licked his lips, drawing Harry's attention down to his mouth. His lips were plump, parted ever so slightly as though begging to be kissed.

Before he realised what he was doing, Harry leant in, close enough to feel the puff of Malfoy's warm breath ghost over his mouth. Malfoy's eyes fluttered shut, his chin tilting up expectantly. Harry almost gave in to the temptation to close the gap, to taste Malfoy's no doubt sweet lips and lose himself in the moment. But the thought of why he was here, who they still had to fight, forced Harry to draw back and step away, shoving whatever attraction he had for Malfoy to one side.

Not meeting Malfoy's most likely angry gaze, Harry stepped past him to push open the double doors. He paused just beyond the threshold, engulfed by a cold, harsh feeling that churned his stomach and tightened his face. It was the atmosphere he'd felt when he'd been captured and first brought to the Manor; the result of dark magic tainting the air.

Malfoy halted beside him, his twisted expression a clear indicator that he felt it too. "I don't understand. Mother made sure the whole Manor was purged."

Keeping his wand in hand, Harry walked slowly into the wide room, looking carefully at his surroundings. The room was wide and oval, with a high domed ceiling. A thin balcony ran along the entire edge of the room, expanding out onto a second floor at the far end. Aisles of huge bookshelves filled to the brim with books took up most of the space, the rest occupied by a couple of study tables covered by mounds of even more books, and ornate velvet chairs.

He picked up a book off the top of a pile, eyebrows raising as he read the title: _"__Dead, __But __Never __Gone.__"_

"What are you looking for exactly, Potter?" Malfoy snapped, approaching the table.

"Something," Harry replied, cryptically. In truth, he wasn't certain himself. Malfoy glared at him in impatience, but huffed and walked off to look through the books on the other table when it became clear Harry wasn't going to expand on his answer.

Harry sifted through his pile, finding more books dealing with life after death. Nothing especially dark, mostly works by people who knew nothing about what lay beyond the veil and making a profit over other's grief by offering them false hope. Clearly, Narcissa had been reading through these in search for comfort over Lucius' death.

He shifted the pile to one side, starting on the next. The first couple were more of the same sentimental drivel that Harry quickly discarded. Feeling annoyed, he picked up the next one and roughly slammed it onto the table, the action ripping part of the rotten leather bound binding. Harry winced, hearing Hermione's scolding voice in the back of his mind. Glancing over at Malfoy to see if he noticed, Harry adjusted the cover to hide the damage before carefully opening the book.

It was old and musty, with brittle yellowing pages, stained here and there by ink blotches. The cover page was ripped out, leaving Harry intrigued as he flipped straight to the contents. His stomach dropped unpleasantly as he read through the list. "Oh, Narcissa. You foolish woman," he whispered.

"Potter! I think I've found something," Malfoy called. He lifted up a sheet of parchment as Harry approached, covered in elegant hand-written scrawls. "Mother seems to have made loads of notes about something called-"

"_Extollo Prucuro_," Harry interrupted, gently placing the ancient tome he'd discovered on the table before Malfoy. "It's a Dark Arts book, specialising in summoning demons from purgatory."

Malfoy stared at the book in disbelief, running a hand over the page as he read through the contents. "But, why would my mother read this?" he asked, frowning at Harry when he didn't answer. "Surely you're not daft enough to believe she would actually attempt to summon a demon?"

"I think she might," Harry replied, making sure to keep his voice gentle. "People sometimes do crazy things, things out of their normal behaviour, in order to deal with their grief."

"But summoning a _demon_?" Malfoy exclaimed. "Why in Merlin's name would she do that? What would it accomplish?"

Harry eyed Malfoy for a moment, wondering how to explain. "Do you know how demons are created?" he asked eventually.

Malfoy blinked and scowled in confusion at the sudden shift in conversation, shaking his head. "No, Potter. Care to enlighten me?"

Folding his arms over his chest, Harry leant back against the table. "When people die, they are given many choices. The majority choose to move on, to travel to whatever awaits them beyond the veil and the broken plains of purgatory. Some are too attached to their previous lives, choosing to remain as lingering half-entities known as ghosts or poltergeists." he explained. "Then there are the rare few, the ones afraid to move on but have no attachment to the realm of the living. These are the ones that remain in purgatory."

"Purgatory is a terrible place, morphing the souls that remain into heartless creatures with no remorse or morals. They are what we know as demons. The majority change into minor demons, like the one you saw before. But sometimes, there is the rare soul that morphs into something so much more intelligent, and ever so much more deadly. Those are the major demons."

"I still don't understand what that has to do with my-,"

"Think about it Malfoy," Harry interrupted. "Narcissa somehow found out someone very dear to her, someone she loved, had become a demon, and summoned them temporarily to this realm."

Malfoy's eyes widened in comprehension. "My father?"

Harry met his gaze and nodded, solemnly. "I know for a fact your father is a demon. Narcissa probably only wanted to meet him again, to be together with the one she loved once more. That wish though, that desire, is what cost her life."

Swallowing hard, Malfoy sunk heavily into the velvet chair behind him, rubbing a hand over his mouth. "You're saying my _father_ killed my mother?"

"Demons hold no compassion for the living, any love they may have felt for another banished from their beings the moment they change. They feast on the essence of live souls in an attempt to compensate for that emptiness, that feeling of loss. Narcissa's soul would have been far too tempting for Lucius to resist."

Malfoy shut his eyes and shook his head, rubbing his hands over his face. Harry looked at him with pity, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze. Malfoy slid his hand over Harry's and squeezed back, his head still bowed.

"How did she know?" Malfoy asked after a moment, lifting his head to look at Harry. "How did she find out father had become a demon?"

Harry frowned. There were very few people who would know that sort of thing, most of which could only be found in purgatory. The only one they could really ask was Narcissa, but he had no way of knowing if she was still in purgatory herself, or had already moved on.

"You said it was Narcissa that told you to come to me for help?" he asked. "Can you hear her now? Do you know if she's still in purgatory?"

"After what you've told me, I really hope not," Malfoy muttered, before closing his eyes. He sat there for a few moments, frowning in concentration. When he began to shiver, Harry knelt before him, placing his hands over his knees, absently stroking with his thumbs. Malfoy shook his head again, opening his eyes. "It's no good, all I can hear is the usual, 'take us, ours', thing."

"Can't you try blocking those voices out?" Harry suggested. "Surely you have some control over your abilities?"

Malfoy glared. "If I did, then I wouldn't be having so much trouble with them, would I?"

Harry gave him a patient smile, when the thought occurred to him. "You said you've had these powers since you were little, right?"

"Yes, but they faded after I started ignoring them."

"But that only happened after you told Narcissa what you could see. And when she died, they manifested again."

Malfoy's frown deepened. "What are you getting at, Potter?"

"I think Narcissa knew what your abilities were, and that scared her," Harry replied, making sure his tone wasn't at all accusatory to avoid raising Malfoy's hackles. "It sounds like she intentionally suppressed your powers, which explains why you have no control over them now. The spell she used would have weakened after her death, but its still in place. You still haven't got full access to your abilities."

"Can you break the spell?" Malfoy asked, hopeful.

"Probably, but are you willing to take the risk?" Harry asked, getting to his feet. "There's a chance you still won't be able to control your powers, and the scope of your full abilities may be overwhelming."

"Potter," Malfoy said, his voice stern. "I want to do this. I need to do this. Please."

Harry eyed him for a moment, taking in the line of his set jaw and the way his grey eyes blazed with a stubborn determination. "All right," he said, voice soft.

* * *

><p>"Red sheets, Potter?" Malfoy asked as he perched himself on the edge of Harry's bed. "Once a Gryffindork, always a Gryffindork."<p>

Harry ignored him, focusing on keeping the powdered fire-flower within the groove he'd etched into the floor. They'd apparated back to his flat, Harry insisting that it would be the easiest place to conduct the short ritual that would hopefully lift Narcissa's suppression spell.

"What are you doing?" Malfoy asked in a demanding and rather petulant tone, folding his arms.

"Making a protection circle, certified to keep unwanted pests, such as demons, at bay," Harry explained, clapping his hands together to rid them of the excess powder. All he had left to do now was invoke the spell that would raise the wards.

He cast a side-long glance at Malfoy, drawing his wand. "You might want to remove your shirt or it'll get ruined," he said, turning away.

The bed creaked from behind him as Malfoy moved. "Shall I remove my trousers too?" he asked.

Harry froze mid-wave, the question conjuring pictures of a naked Malfoy sprawled out over his bed, seductive and inviting. He made a strangled noise, his libido stirring in interest.

"Potter?"

"I'm thinking," Harry replied eventually.

"_Potter?_" Malfoy asked again, this time his tone lighter and more flirtatious.

Harry shook his head, mentally scolding himself. He'd already decided that now wasn't the appropriate time to pursue his attraction to Malfoy. He turned to face the man with a smile he could feel was weak and not at all convincing. "Best keep them on," he replied lightly, quickly turning away again.

He heard Malfoy huff and mutter something under his breath, but tuned him out as he incanted the spell to invoke the circle ward. A yellow sheet rose from the floor, enclosing them within a bubble of magic that surrounded the area around the bed.

"Lie down in the middle of the bed," Harry instructed, focusing on the task at hand as he climbed onto the mattress to kneel beside Malfoy.

Once the man had settled, Harry placed his wand against Malfoy's chest, just above his heart. He felt Malfoy tense and placed a gentle restraining hand on his arm, but he didn't try to move.

"What happens now?" Malfoy asked.

"Now I ask if you're sure you want to do this," Harry replied, wanting to make sure Malfoy knew what he was asking for. "Because there's no going back. Once the dead realise you can hear and see them all the time, they'll do everything they can to get your attention. Ignoring them won't work any more, and if you still can't control your abilities, there'll be no way to block them out."

"Just get on with it, Potter," Malfoy snapped, though Harry detected a slight quaver in his voice. "I've already made up my mind."

Not wanting to press the matter in case Malfoy lost all his courage, Harry began to chant, tracing circular patterns over his chest. Black lines followed the trail of Harry's wand, creating thick curling runic markings that marred the porcelain skin like a crude tattoo. Malfoy hissed in discomfort and glanced down to see Harry's work, a frown forming on his face.

He took a breath, no doubt to protest being branded even if it was a necessary part of the ritual, but a single quelling look from Harry had him closing his mouth with a sharp click.

"_Abrumpo obscuro aspectus canor mortis_," Harry chanted, the runes glowing a dull white like a muted lumos as he retraced them with his wand. "_Recreo lateo aspectus canor mortis_."

Malfoy let out a grunt of pain, his back arching and his hands scrabbling for purchase on the sheets. Harry rubbed his hand up and down Malfoy's arm, hoping it was reassuring and comforting.

"Deliquesco!" Harry cast, swiping his wand through the air.

Malfoy's eyes widened and his mouth opened in a silent scream. He let out a throaty gurgling noise before finally slumping back against the mattress, breathing heavily. The runes on his chest faded and thankfully disappeared without a trace, meaning the ritual was a success. He didn't think Malfoy would thank him if Harry had left him with another permanent unwanted tattoo.

"You all right?" Harry asked, tucking his wand away.

Malfoy didn't reply, staring blankly up at the canopy, his breath ragged.

"Malfoy?" Harry asked, leaning over him so he was in Malfoy's line of vision. "Can you hear me? You okay?"

"-eople," Malfoy breathed, an unexpected tear rolling down his cheek. "All those people, those poor poor people."

Harry frowned, gathering Malfoy in his arms when the man began to shiver. Malfoy clutched at Harry like a life-line, burying his face in his robes.

"I can't stop them, there's so many," Malfoy muttered incoherently. He gasped, his grip on Harry's robes tightening. "I'm theirs. I belong to them."

Harry grabbed Malfoy by the shoulders and pushed him back so he could look him directly in the face as he spoke. His eyes were clouded, flickering every which-way as though unable to focus on one thing. Harry grimaced, having known that access to his full abilities would be completely overwhelming and felt guilty for not making that perfectly clear to him.

"You have to concentrate, Malfoy," Harry said, speaking slowly yet clearly since he had to compete with what had to be hundreds of other voices. "Listen to the sound of my voice, focus on it and block all the rest out."

Malfoy shook his head, blinking rapidly. "I can't, I can't," he croaked. "It hurts. It hurts so much."

"I know," Harry said gently, smoothing back his hair from his forehead. Malfoy seemed to relax a little from the gesture. "But if you do this, it won't hurt any more. The pain will go away, the voices will stop. But you have to try, Malfoy."

Malfoy took a deep shuddering breath, his eyes drifting shut as Harry stroked his hair, muttering meaningless words of comfort as he held him close. He didn't know how long they sat like that, wrapped around each other, until Malfoy finally pulled away, his eyes glassy from unshed tears but focused as he looked up at Harry.

"Well, that was unpleasant," he grumbled.

Harry blinked at him, the unexpected statement drawing a huff of laughter from his lips. Malfoy smiled back, looking tired but pleased with himself. Harry leant down and brushed his lips against Malfoy's on impulse, only meaning it to be a quick, chaste kiss. But then Malfoy's lips were moving against his, a long fingered hand carding through Harry's hair to bring him closer, draw him deeper.

Unable to resist any longer, Harry shifted so he was partially draped over Malfoy, his leg resting between Malfoy's thighs. A tongue swiped over his bottom lip and Harry opened his mouth wider, allowing him entrance. Their tongues swiped and slid together in a sensual dance as their hands came into play, gripping and stroking each other's bodies in silent appreciation.

It was Harry who broke the kiss, forcing himself to pull away before they took things too far. The sight of Malfoy with puffy wet lips and mussed hair, eyes dark with want and lust almost drew him back for one last taste, but Harry managed to resist. Barely.

"We have to stop. For now, we have to stop," he whispered, adding the last part when Malfoy's expression went icy, clearly feeling rejected. "It's not the right time to... to-"

Harry trailed off with a moan when Malfoy sat up, nipping and sucking at a sensitive spot on his neck, just below his jaw. He clutched at Malfoy's shoulders, gripping tightly as the action sent heat pooling down to his groin.

He almost fell forward in a heap when Malfoy abruptly pulled away, sliding out from under Harry to sit on the edge of the bed. "You're right, we should stop," Malfoy agreed as he retrieved his shirt from the floor, casting an evil little smirk over his shoulder.

Harry scowled and rolled his eyes, rubbing his neck as he tried to calm down his over-excited libido. "Bloody Slytherin," he muttered.

* * *

><p>After relocating downstairs to the kitchen, Potter made them a quick lunch. The tea was sub-par and the cheese sandwich was rather plain and common for Draco's tastes, but he forced himself to consume them under Potter's watchful gaze, needing the fuel for what they were about to do.<p>

His jaw cracked as he suppressed a yawn, feeling exhausted. The constant faint buzzing in his ears was driving him mad, but Potter had assured him that would fade over time as Draco became more accustomed to blocking out the many voices.

"Are you sure you don't want to have a quick nap first?" Potter asked as he sat down at the table next to Draco, clearly not fooled by his carefully concealed yawn.

Draco shook his head. "No, I want to get this over and done with."

Potter took a breath, probably to convince Draco otherwise, but seemed to change his mind and said nothing. Draco smirked and offered his hands palm up to Potter, an eyebrow raised in silent challenge. Seeing it, Potter pulled a face before covering his hands with his own, squeezing them gently in warning, or perhaps reassurance.

Exhaling deeply, Draco closed his eyes, focusing on the shields he had carefully erected in his mind to block out the voices and shadows. He swallowed anxiously, before letting them fall. All at once the faint buzzing burst into audible sound of voices overlapping each other as they scrambled for his attention.

A cold wind whipped at his skin making his eyes fly open from the shock of it, even though he'd braced himself for the sensation. He took in the now familiar broken scenery of purgatory, a grim amusement passing through him when he noticed Potter's kitchen chairs had been transported over with them, though now they looked as aged and decadent as the fallen city surrounding them.

The previous times in purgatory, all Draco could see were the shadows, some of which became tangible and morphed into minor demons. This time though, Draco could see people milling all around them, looking almost as human as Potter and himself but for an odd blurred quality. It was almost like they were painted onto the landscape, like the portraits at the Manor.

They gathered around Draco as he stood, tugging at his clothes and hair in a child-like manner, all talking to him once. Oddly enough, being able to see them like this rather than as mere shadows and disembodied voices left him wondering why he'd found them frightening in the first place.

"_Ours_."

"_Take us_."

"_Ours_."

He grimaced. They might not be frightening any more, but they were quickly becoming annoying.

"_Ours_."

"_Take us_."

"_Ours_."

"Malfoy."

Draco blinked. That was a new one, he thought before he realised it was Potter trying to get his attention. The Unspeakable was frowning at him in concern, thumbs stroking over his knuckles. Draco gave him a small smile, yelping when one of the dead gave his hair a particularly vicious tug.

"Ouch! Okay, no one messes with the hair!" he snapped, swatting at the dead woman he thought responsible. She flinched back for a moment before reaching for him again, though this time her touches were notably more gentle.

"I don't see any minor demons about," Potter said, giving the area a quick sweeping once over, his wand in his free hand.

The other twisted in Draco's hand, linking their fingers together in a firmer grip. Draco couldn't help his smile at that, though he knew it was a necessity to keep Potter in purgatory with him and in no way a romantic gesture. They already agreed that though Draco might be able to permanently transport himself to purgatory, Potter would probably end up falling back into the realm of the living the moment they broke contact.

"Me neither," Draco replied, shaking his hand free when one of the dead tried to link their hands together in an imitation of him and Potter. "Just a bunch of dead people. Go away!"

Potter glanced at him, unable to see them. "Are they hurting you?"

"No, they're just being irritating," Draco answered, waving his hand at them in a shooing gesture.

"Is Narcissa with them?" Potter asked.

Draco scanned the blurred faces but saw nothing of the familiar elegant features his mother possessed. He closed his eyes, listening carefully, but couldn't recognise his mother's voice amongst the many blabbering on. He huffed, shaking his head. "No, and I can't hear her either."

"Perfect," Potter mumbled. He turned sharply, eyes narrowed as he searched for something in the distance.

"What is it?"

Potter shook his head. "I thought I heard something. We should get moving, it's never safe to stay in one place here."

"Hold on a second," Draco said, tugging on Potter's hand when he started to walk away. "I've got an idea."

Turning to the dead people surrounding him, he put on his most charming smile. "I don't suppose any of you know where I can find my mother, Narcissa Malfoy, by any chance?" he asked.

"_Ours_."

"_Take us_."

"Ours."

"Yes, I got that part," Draco snapped, trying for patience. "But I really need to find my mother. Narcissa Malfoy. Do you know where she is?"

The dead woman who pulled his hair earlier cocked her head to one side. "_Narcissa_?" she repeated in question, the name mangled into an echoing hiss through her blurred lips.

Draco nodded encouragingly. "That's right, Narcissa. Do you know where I can find her?"

"_Narcissa_," she said again, tugging on Draco's hand before gliding away. She turned back when Draco didn't follow, waving at him as she called. "_Narcissa, Narcissa_!"

"This way, Potter," Draco said, making sure their hands were still firmly linked before following the dead woman.

She led them a fair distance through the dead city, her kin gliding along behind Draco as he clambered over the rubble, struggling to keep up with her pace. Potter, curse him, seemed to be having little trouble, clearly accustomed to the awkward grounding of purgatory. And wasn't that a disturbing fact.

"How many times have you been here?" Draco asked, stumbling as his foot slid on a loose rock. Potter caught him before he fell over and helped right him on his feet. "You seem to be a little too much at home for comfort."

Potter glanced at him and away. "I've lost count. The first time was an accident though," he explained, helping Draco over an awkward bit of iron railing that blocked their path. "I fell through the veil during my training as an Unspeakable. My colleagues thought I was a goner. So did I, after my first couple of days here."

"Luck was on my side though. I managed to stumble across a newly made major demon during that time," he nodded at Draco. "Lucius as it so happens. He still played by the rules back then, since he was just a newbie learning the ropes. Since I was technically still alive, Lucius led me to the neutral zone where the man in charge allowed me passage back to the realm of the living, so long as I was able to pay the toll."

"Toll?"

Potter shrugged. "A couple of galleons that I luckily had in my pockets. I never know what he does with it. Probably amassing a small fortune for Merlin knows what. Anyway, you should have seen the looks of shock on my colleagues faces when I came back, alive and well. Unfortunately for one of the more foolhardy of the lot, he believed that meant anyone could cross through to purgatory and come back the way I did." Potter's face darkened. "I tried to warn him, the foolish man. He never did make it back."

"'Only those who have died can pass through the veil unharmed', right?" Draco said, quoting Potter's words from before. He frowned, pausing when Potter nodded in agreement. "Then how come you were able to pass through okay?"

There was a moments silence. "Because I've already died once," he replied, his voice soft.

Draco stared at him in surprise, but Potter didn't elaborate and the expression on his face clearly said to drop the subject, which he did, albeit reluctantly.

The dead woman came to a stop outside the remains of what appeared to have been a house, once upon a time. She hopped up and down eagerly like a small child, tugging at Draco's hand when they reached her.

"_Narcissa_!" she proclaimed, pointing through the narrow opening that may have once been an arched doorway.

Draco thanked her with a smile, turning to Potter. "She's in here."

Potter was looking behind them again, his wand raised at chest-level. "Be careful," he warned before following Draco in.

They entered a thin corridor, a cracked and crumbling set of stairs of to one side that Draco had absolutely no intention in climbing lest he intended to break his neck.

"Mother?" he called out, leading Potter through to the front room, empty save for a crumbled fireplace and mantle. An empty window frame was set in the far wall, the charred wooden brackets looking almost comical in the way they hung for no purpose.

"Draco?" came a faint reply.

Narcissa glided into the room, her features and figure more prominent than that of the other dead who were still lurking outside the building, though she still emitted that oddly smoky quality they all seemed to possess. Her eyes were wide when she saw Draco standing by the window, a hand covering her gaping mouth. Even in death, his mother still had the pure-blood manners that were ingrained into her during life.

"Oh, Draco!" she cried, quickly crossing the room and enveloping him in a ghostly embrace. Her touch was icy and chilling; it was like hugging an ice statue. But the gesture was so familiar that Draco found himself returning it without thought, tears threatening to spill when Narcissa drew back, cupping his face in both hands and gently kissing his forehead.

"Mother," he croaked, only just realising how much he had truly missed her.

Potter squeezed his hand gently, before turning away to face the window, giving them the pretence of privacy that Draco was truly grateful for. Besides, he would only be able to hear Draco's half of the conversation since he was unable to see or hear Narcissa.

"What are you doing here?" Narcissa asked, stroking Draco's hair back like she always used to. Her movements abruptly stilled, her smile fading to nothing as she turned her suddenly sharp gaze on him. "How are you here? How can you see me?"

Draco blinked in surprise at her sudden change in attitude. "Potter helped break the spell you put on me to suppress my powers," he explained, frowning when his mother closed her eyes as though searching for strength. "We had to ask you a few things."

"No. Oh no, no, no, no, no. Draco, you foolish, foolish boy," Narcissa scolded, sounding frightened. "You have to leave. Right now. Take Potter and go."

"What? Why?" he grabbed hold of her cold hands. "Mother, what's wrong?"

"Don't you see? This was all a trap. You have to get out now, while you can!" Narcissa hissed as Potter turned to him frowning.

"Trap? What trap? Mother, I don't understand," Draco said, confused.

"Because he's after you Draco, he wants to use you to open the path way to the realm of the living!" Narcissa rushed out, clutching at Draco's hands and glancing out the window in fear. "Listen to me, Draco. There is a way for the dead in purgatory to return to the realm of the living."

"What? How?"

"By sacrificing someone with the ability to walk through both realms unheeded. Someone like you, and like I was."

Draco stared at Narcissa, unable to believe what she was saying. "Are you saying you used to hear and see the same things I could?"

Narcissa nodded. "Why do you think I put the spell on you? It was too much of a burden on someone so young. I had planned to take it off when you were older and more prepared, but I was killed before I had the chance."

"Father killed you, didn't he?"

"Yes, but do not blame him, Draco. He was just acting on his instinct as a demon," Narcissa pressed, her gaze flicking out the window and back to him again. "It was my fault. In my grief, I was tricked into summoning the demon. He hoped to open the pathway through my death. But my powers weren't strong enough, I only managed to create a tear."

"Who did? Who was it, mother?"

Narcissa shook her head. "Let me finish. Only a few of the dead are able to pass through the tear, and when they come through they can only inhabit corpses that are reasonably fresh in death."

"The Inferi," Draco muttered, glancing at Potter who was watching him with sharply. "That's why they suddenly started appearing."

"I was afraid he'd try to capture you, so I sent you to Potter," Narcissa explained, nodding at the Unspeakable. "He's well known for crossing over into this realm, as well as being a successful hero and Inferi hunter. If anyone could protect you, it was Potter."

Narcissa glared at Potter, pursing her lips. "I never thought he'd be reckless enough as to awaken your powers though," she muttered, shaking her head. "But never mind that, you have to leave now, Draco. I don't want you to die. Not yet."

"Wait, mother. Who's behind this? Is it father?"

"No, your father is just a pawn, like before," Narcissa replied, eyes closing in misery. "No, it's him that's behind it. He who must not be named. The Dark Lord."

"Voldemort?" Draco yelped out. Potter turned to him in bewilderment.

"Don't speak his name!" Narcissa cried out in warning, too late.

A loud boom reverberated through the air, shaking the crumbling building through to it's foundations. Draco tumbled to the floor, dragging Potter down with him as another boom echoed through the air. A low ceiling beam cracked and fell, almost crushing them if it weren't for Potter's quick movements, rolling them over and out of harms way.

"You all right?" Potter asked as Draco coughed, choking on the cloud of dust that swept up in the air.

Draco nodded, letting Potter tug him to his feet and drag him outside. He glanced over his shoulder in search of Narcissa, but his mother had disappeared.

"Well, well, Potter." drawled a familiar voice as they fled the collapsing building. Draco looked up, seeing his father standing before them regally, a horde of minor demons hissing and chittering as they paced behind him. "I must thank you for delivering my son to us."

"Lay a finger on him, and I'll destroy you, balance of the realms be damned," Potter growled, aiming his wand at Lucius.

Lucius rose a brow in amusement. "How touching that you're willing to go to such lengths. But I'm afraid Draco is necessary for the Dark Lord to make his rise to glory."

He rose a hand, a red smeared ball of magic floating above his palm, quickly growing until it was roughly the size of a quaffle. Potter shoved Draco out of the way as Lucius threw the ball of magic, sending them tumbling to the ground as it flew past them, exploding as it hit the side of a far building, completely destroying the wall.

Lucius grinned, glancing behind him at the minor demons and jerking his head. "Get them. Kill Potter, leave my son unharmed," he ordered.

The demons charged for them, fangs flashing as they snarled and flexed their claws. Potter hauled Draco to his feet. "Run!" he yelled, dragging Draco behind him.

Draco's breath came fast, heart pounding as he tried to keep up with Potter's quick speed. The man was clearly used to running for his life, either from his years as an Unspeakable or from his time fighting against Voldemort and his Death Eaters.

"_Ferio_!" Potter cast over his shoulder, hitting a minor demon that had managed to come unnervingly close. He cast a series of these spells, each one hitting the target even though Potter wasn't even looking where he was aiming.

Draco's lungs were beginning to burn from the exertion, his body wasn't used to being pushed so much. His legs were heavy, feeling like blocks of lead. Draco knew he was slowing down, tears of frustration and fear blurring his vision as his body refused to respond to his will, to move faster.

Claws scraped his leg and Draco crashed to the floor with a yelp, his hand slipping from Potter's grip. Potter turned, eyes wide. Draco stretched out as Potter reached for him, his body blurring in a whirl of colours. He vanished in a gust of warm air just before his fingers could brush Draco's.

"Draco," hissed a cold voice that sent Draco's stomach plummeting through his feet. It was a voice that still haunted his nightmares, along with the memories of torture, screaming and blood.

His body quivered in fear as the minor demon that had been pinning him down scuttled away, allowing him freedom to move. His eyes widened, his jaw working but no sound came out. The pale skin, lipless mouth and crimson eyes were all as he remembered and feared.

"Draco," Voldemort hissed, as solid and real as though he were still living. He reached out a spider-like hand, cupping Draco's chin. "You're mine."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/n**: Thanks for the reviews! This is the final part. :3

Part 3

No one stopped Harry as he barged into the Ministry. They all took one look at his face and quickly got out of his way. The people that were in the lift all hopped out when he got in, even if it wasn't their floor. Harry didn't notice any of it, blood boiling as he stormed down the dark corridor to the Department of Mysteries.

Jex saw him approaching and gleefully took a breath to ask for the password. Seeing Harry's expression though changed his mind and he quickly hopped out of the way with a squawk as Harry stormed past.

Harry put a little to much force behind the flames that would reveal the door to the death chamber and they ended up burning the wood to a cinder upon contact. He didn't care, hurriedly entering the room and quickly clambering up onto the dais, diving through the veil. Once back in purgatory, Harry broke into a run heading for the skeleton tower remains that lay beside the broken fountain, the trip taking a lot less time than usual.

"Severus!" he yelled as he slid down the rubble into the former potions master's house. "Snape! Where are you?"

"Potter!" Snape glared at him, rising from his usual seat. "What in Merlin's name-"

"The demons have taken Malfoy," Harry interrupted, barging past the man to get to the river. "I need to find out where they've gone."

Snape put a restraining hand on his shoulder. "What nonsense are you spouting this time, Potter? You know it's forbidden for you to use the river-"

"They've taken him!" Harry shouted, slapping Snape's hand away. "I have to find him or they will kill him."

Harry reached to dip his hand into the river water when Snape caught his arm. "You will not touch that water, Potter. The balance must be maintained."

"Fuck the balance!" Harry snarled back.

Snape's grip on his arm became painful and he flung Harry away like he were nothing but a toy. "You dare to say such things in my house!" he yelled, forming a green ball of magic between his hands.

Harry rolled out of the way as Snape flung the ball. It crashed into the floor, creating a shallow pit.

"I told you, you're the only one playing by the rules now!" Harry yelled as Snape formed a second ball, casting a blasting curse that Snape dodged. "If you don't let me use the river, then Voldemort is going to break through to the realm of the living! All hell is going to break loose, literally!"

Snape paused, his dark eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about?"

"While you've been focused on maintaining the balance, Lucius has been helping Voldemort gather all the pieces he needs," Harry breathed out. "They've captured Malfoy, and if they kill him the pathway between the worlds will split wide open. You can't let that happen."

"Helping you would not be neutral. It would disturb the balance," Snape said, extinguishing the ball of magic in his hands.

"The balance has already been skewed by Voldemort from when he killed Narcissa," Harry replied. "The Malfoy's were your friends once, Severus. Draco is your godson. Don't stand by and watch him die for the sake of a balance that only you care about. Please. Help me."

Snape was silent for a moment, his face revealing no emotion. He abruptly turned and strode to the rivers edge. "Don't make a habit of this, Potter since this is the first and last time I'm going to help you."

Harry let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding, quickly joining Snape as he crouched down and dipped his hand into the bubbling water. "_Comperio avius Draco Malfoy_," he muttered.

The water shimmered and rippled under his touch, a hazy image forming beneath the surface that quickly grew in clarity. It showed a tall building, sleek and institutional with it's clean white washed walls lined with huge panes of glass. It looked oddly out of place amongst the broken rubble that made up the rest of purgatory.

"Voldemort's magic at work, no doubt," Snape drawled with a disapproving sniff. "Nothing but a glamour, a simple illusion to cover up the ugly truth."

Harry nodded having guessed as much. He leant forward when the image shifted and zoomed into the inside of the building, revealing the drones of minor demons scuttling about, guarding the entrance. He grimaced, wondering how he was going to make it past all of them when the image shifted again.

A small room appeared, with white tiled floors and walls. His heart leapt when he spotted Draco laying unconscious in the middle, Lucius hovering nearby with an amused look on his face. There was no sign of Voldemort.

Snape pulled his hand free from the water, the image disappearing as he stood. "What are you going to do, Potter," he asked, sounding more curious than concerned. "Even if you make it through those minor demons, you'll still have both Lucius and Voldemort to contend with."

Harry shook his head. "I've got no choice. I can't let Voldemort make it back to the realm of the living. I won't let him kill Malfoy."

"As foolhardy and stubborn as ever, I see," Snape said, a brow raised in an unamused expression. His lips thinned when Harry didn't answer, turning with a swish of his cloak and stalking over to the small table. "I suppose you should take these with you."

Harry turned, hesitantly taking the small leather pouch Snape was offering him. He peeked inside, blinking in surprise at the pile of golden galleons twinkling up at him. He plucked one from the pouch, almost dropping it in shock when it released a tiny pulse of magic painfully through his arm.

"Raw magic is the only thing I know of that can permanently destroy a demon," Snape explained, taking the galleon from Harry's fingers and studying it idly. "It lasts longest when attached to gold, but even then it isn't stable. Don't touch them unless you intend to use them, Potter."

Harry nodded at the warning, tucking the pouch within the confines of his robes. He turned to leave when Snape cleared his throat, drawing his attention.

"Well, this is useless now," Snape announced, tossing the galleon over his shoulder. It bounced on the floor, falling into the river with a plop. The water bubbled and parted, revealing a swirling dark hole.

"Oh dear," Snape said, his voice monotone. "I appear to have accidentally opened a portal to the self-same building where they are holding Draco."

Harry stared at him, gaze flicking over to the river as a smile spread over his face. "Well, it would be a terrible waste of a galleon if I didn't use it," he said, walking back over to the river edge.

"No. Don't," Snape replied, sinking into his chair and returning his attention to his stack of parchment. "Stop."

Harry rolled his eyes and shook his head, smiling at Snape. "Thanks, Severus," he said softly.

Snape said nothing, too busy flipping through his pile. Harry grinned before he turned and dived into the dark swirling pool, clutching his wand tightly as he fell. In what seemed like a mere few seconds later, the portal spat him out onto a hard tiled floor.

He winced in pain as he got to his feet wishing not for the first time that travelling by portals gave a softer landing. The sound of chittering made him freeze, a feeling of dread sweeping over him. Bracing himself, Harry turned slowly, grimacing when he discovered the portal had spat him out right amongst the horde of minor demons.

Cursing Snape for his twisted sense of humour, Harry slashed his wand down, blasting away one of the closer demons before it could recover from its initial shock at Harry's sudden and unexpected appearance. Rallied by this, the other demons snarled and charged for him. Spinning in a tight circle Harry cast a series of curses that sent the first wave of demons flying back.

He dove a hand into his robes, drawing out the pouch Snape had given him. Grabbing a handful of galleons, he flung them at the demons. The raw magic pulsed out from them in a visible wave. The demons that the magic touched exploded with a loud bang, sending slimy guts and limbs flying everywhere, some of it splattering over Harry's robes.

He winced in disgust, but didn't pause in his throwing. The demons continued to lunge for him, completely undeterred even as their numbers began to dwindle. Harry reached for more coins, eyes widening when his hand groped thin air.

Tossing the now empty pouch away, he used his wand to blast back a couple more of the demons. One was too quick, breaking through his defences before Harry could curse it. It leapt, crashing into his chest and knocking him to the floor, effectively pinning him down while it's sharp claws scraped his skin.

He hissed in pain, pressing his forearm against the demon's neck to hold back it's snapping jaws from his face, fumbling for his wand. He shifted, managing to dislodge the demons grip on his arm and flipped them over, kicking out at another demon as he blasted the first into oblivion.

Harry turned in time to see a flash of fangs and outstretched claws, the demon already too close from its lunge for him to even raise his wand. It was a mere inch from his face, close enough for Harry to smell its sour breath, when the demon suddenly exploded with a shriek. He looked on in shock as the other demons followed suit, blood and limbs and slime flying everywhere as they exploded one by one.

Whirling around, Harry had time to see Lucius throw the last small ball of magic, destroying the final remaining minor demon that had been clambering away in an attempt to escape.

"What-?" Harry started.

"Oh, don't mistake me for your saviour, Potter," Lucius said, another ball of red-smeared magic already building between his hands. "I simply wanted the pleasure of killing you myself."

Harry leapt to one side as Lucius launched the magic at him, the resulting boom shaking the entire building as it exploded, partially destroying the floor where it had hit. He shot to his feet, firing a blasting curse as he moved. Lucius stumbled back a couple of steps from the impact, but was otherwise unharmed.

"Your pathetic excuse for magic won't work on me like it did on those mere insects, Potter," Lucius told him with a confident smirk, removing the clasp to his robes. "I'm far more powerful than they could have ever hoped to be."

The robes fell to the floor as he rolled his shoulders, revealing Lucius' shirtless, toned torso. His lips pulled back over his teeth in a silent snarl as he hunched over, unfurling his previously concealed leathery wings in all their glory. They beat once, twice, three times, creating a gust of wind strong enough to almost knock Harry off of his feet.

"_Flammo aquilo_!" Harry yelled, waving his wand in an arc above his head as he fought against the wind.

Fire burst into life all around him, spreading through the air, wavering for a moment before it gathered all together and shot at high speed towards Lucius. He smiled and simply raised his hand, the fire smashing against an invisible barrier before it could reach him.

"_Caeco_," Lucius muttered.

Harry let out a yell as darkness coated his vision. He blinked rapidly but the darkness remained, panic bubbling in his chest. His eyes were open but he couldn't see. The bastard demon had stolen his sight.

There was a sound as Lucius shifted and Harry blindly lashed out, feeling a grim pulse of satisfaction when his fist connected with something that made the demon grunt in pain. A hand whipped across Harry's face with enough force to snap his head side-ways.

"_Crucio_."

Harry screamed as the agony tore through him like a thousand knives, sending him to his knees as his body convulsed. Lucius' laughter permeated the fog of pain in cruel mockery.

Remembering his training, Harry forced himself to breathe, to take the pain as it came rather than try to fight it. It eased a little, just enough for Harry to be able to concentrate on his wand.

"_Fulgar aduro_!" he cried, aiming his wand in Lucius' vague direction.

There was a loud buzz as a bolt of lightning shot from his wand, the loud yell of surprise followed by a scream of pain clear indicators that the spell managed to hit its target. The pain from the 'crucio' faded and Harry shakily got to his feet, casting a 'finite incantatem' as he stood.

He blinked as light painfully pierced his eyes, vision returned to normal. Lucius was leaning against the far wall, breathing heavily with a hand covering his wounded shoulder, his wings in tatters as they hung unnaturally from his back.

Lucius summoned another ball of raw magic and threw it at him, but it was weak and Harry easily deflected it. He moved his wand in a complicated motion, drawing on the raw magic in the air. "_Rudis veneficium_," he muttered.

A golden ball or raw magic gathered and grew before him, glowing faintly. Lucius grinned, his teeth blackened with his singed blood. "Even if you destroy me, you can't win, Potter," he mocked, his voice rasping. "Voldemort will rise again, and all that defy him shall perish!"

"Go to hell," Harry whispered, thrusting his wand forward to send the golden ball flying.

There was a bright flash as it hit, completely engulfing the demon. The loud boom shook through his feet, throwing a cloud of dust into the air. Harry coughed and hacked as the dust filled his lungs, waving it away. The dust cleared revealing a huge black scorch mark that spread from the floor to the ceiling in an ugly splatter. Lucius Malfoy was no more.

Breathing heavily, Harry pushed himself forwards, stumbling through the double doors at the end of the corridor into the room where Snape had shown Malfoy had been taken. He was still there, laying unconscious in the middle of the floor. Harry looked all around as he approached, but saw no sign of Voldemort anywhere.

"Malfoy," Harry called, lifting the man into a sitting position and cradling him in his arms when he didn't stir. "Malfoy, wake up."

Malfoy's lids flickered, his face puckering as he slowly regained consciousness. Harry let out a breath of relief when Malfoy's mouth stretched into a wide smile.

"Hello, Harry," he greeted in a voice not his own.

Harry stared as Malfoy's eyes shot open, revealing crimson hues that were once grey. An invisible blast of magic sent Harry flying, crashing into the far wall. Malfoy got to his feet, the cruel smile still twisting his face.

"Voldemort," Harry growled, using the wall for support as he stood back up.

Voldemort clapped his hands together in mock applause. "Well done," he said. "You figured that out rather quickly."

Harry grit his teeth, aiming his wand in Voldemort's direction. "What have you done with Malfoy?" he snarled.

"He's in here, somewhere," Voldemort replied, tapping his finger against his temple. "But he won't last much longer. Two minds can't inhabit the same body after all."

"Get out of his head. Now!" Harry ordered, blood boiling.

Voldemort's grin widened, looking strange and insane on Malfoy's face. "I don't think so, Harry. I've grown rather fond of this body." He ran his hands in a sensual motion down Malfoy's torso. "Besides, I need young Draco to die in order to open the pathway. His body will be a wonderful souvenir, don't you think?"

Harry snarled, half a curse escaping his lips before he stopped himself, mid-incantation. Voldemort saw this and raised an amused brow, an expression so familiar on Malfoy's face that it hurt.

"You're unwilling to harm this body?" he mused, his eyes narrowing in thought. His smirk grew. "You and Draco, is it? I can see it all in his memories. How touching."

Harry dodged just in time as Voldemort flung a curse in his direction. "I, however, hold no such qualms about harming you," he said, gathering raw magic to form in his hands.

Voldemort seemed to struggle in bending it to his will, Malfoy's body unused to casting spells and curses without his wand to filter the raw magic. It burned his palms and wrists as it formed into a ball, though Voldemort didn't appear to notice.

Knowing he had to do something fast, Harry leapt to one side to avoid the magic before he stood straight, meeting Voldemort's gaze. "You win, Tom," he admitted. "I can't beat you like this, I can't hurt Malfoy."

Voldemort's eyes narrowed, clearly suspecting a trick. Harry swallowed hard, aware he was taking a huge risk when he tossed his wand away and raised his hands palm up in a sign of surrender. Voldemort stared at him in wide-eyed shock, before he grinned from ear to ear, dispelling the ball of raw magic and summoning Harry's wand to him.

"The great Harry Potter, surrendering to me," he whispered, eyes glowing in triumph as he admired Harry's wand. "If only Dumbledore could see you now."

"Even if I can't defeat you, Tom, someone will be able to," Harry stated, attempting to exude an air confidence that he truly didn't feel. "After all, Malfoy's body can't seem to handle the raw power of magic like we can."

Voldemort glanced at him. "That is an unfortunate set-back, but no matter. I shall have to settle with taking control of the living realm by use of a wand, as before."

"Because that worked for you so well the first time," Harry goaded, heart pounding as Voldemort scowled at him. "Face it, Tom. Without the ability to control raw magic like you can in purgatory, it won't be long before someone destroys you again."

There was a moment of heavy silence, Voldemort tapping Harry's wand against his lips as he thought. Harry held his breath as the wide smirk returned to his face, eyes glinting with menace as he turned to face him.

"Or perhaps I simply need to take over another body. One that _can_ control the raw magic, and kill Draco afterwards," Voldemort pondered aloud. "Someone like _you_, Harry Potter."

Harry stared as Voldemort hunched over, gagging and gurgling as though he were trying to vomit. A dark cloud of smoke spewed out from his mouth, swirling up into the air. Malfoy's body shuddered as it left him before he collapsed into a heap on the ground.

Breath quick, Harry closed his eyes and braced himself as the smoke engulfed him. He choked, feeling like he was swallowing ash as it flew down his throat, coating his lungs and smothering his heart.

He'd known this would happen the moment he threw his wand away, his main concern in getting Voldemort out of Malfoy's body before he could do any more damage. Harry only hoped his will would be strong enough to keep Voldemort's mind suppressed until he found a way to permanently destroy him.

"_Aboleo umbra compos_!"

Harry doubled over as his stomach twisted painfully, gurgling as he tried to remember how to breathe. Fire rippled over his skin in ice-hot agony. He collapsed to his knees, nausea rising in his throat. He gagged and hacked in reflex, eyes watering as the smoke poured out of his mouth. Harry fell back, panting as he watched the smoke twist and curl in the air.

"_Deliquesco_."

There was an ear-piercing wail as the smoke rippled from its centre as though it were made of water. Slowly it split into smaller pieces as though it were being torn apart, before dispersing into nothing.

Harry shifted his gaze, staring in astonishment. Malfoy was sitting up, Harry's wand shaking in his grip as he breathed heavily. Seeing him staring, Malfoy shot him a wry grin, pushing back his hair with a shaky hand.

"That was unpleasant," Harry breathed, echoing Malfoy's words from before.

Malfoy laughed, albeit weakly, his eyes bright as he looked at Harry. "Completely," he agreed.

"How did you know-"

"What spells to use?" Malfoy finished for him. Harry nodded. He tapped his temple the same way Voldemort had earlier. "I was in here with him, remember? Whilst he was busy dealing with you, I took a look through his mind," he shuddered. "Not an experience I would ever wish to repeat. He knew what spells could destroy him. Luckily, you gave me the chance to use them."

Harry watched as Malfoy crawled over to him, not quite able to get to his feet yet. He laid a hand on Harry's stomach, leaning close so their faces were inches apart. "Thank you," he breathed. "For coming to save me."

"Your welcome," Harry whispered back.

Malfoy hovered over him for a minute, his warm breath ghosting over Harry's lips before he pulled back with a smirk. Harry frowned at the man as Malfoy unsteadily got to his feet, offering a hand to help Harry up.

Harry took it reluctantly, before he tugged the man back down and captured his mouth in a kiss. Malfoy moaned, lips parting as they eagerly devoured each other, tongues swiping together frantically. Their kiss was just becoming heated when Harry pulled away again.

"Potter, if you tell me this isn't the right time again, I swear-" Malfoy started, trailing off when Harry kissed him again, quicker, but just as deeply.

"Time, yes. Place, not so much," Harry replied, thinking that a derelict building full of demon remains in the middle of purgatory was probably not the ideal location to pursue his attraction to Malfoy.

Malfoy glanced around them and grimaced. "Okay, fair enough," he replied, placing a halting hand on Harry's chest when he moved to stand. "But when we get back to the living realm, I expect a full thorough shagging, Potter."

Harry grinned and nipped at Malfoy's lips. "It will be my pleasure."


End file.
